I Dreamed a Dream
by broadwaygirl818
Summary: Fantine's dream is dead.  Abused by the world and driven to desperation, she becomes the lowest of the low: a prostitute.  Yet, in her darkest hour, she will discover that her dream lives on.


**I Dreamed a Dream**

**I fixed the grammatical errors. If you read, please review... all writers love to receive feedback. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character in _Les Miserables... _I just like to add depth to their situations.**

Fantine stared at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized the girl looking back at her. Not so long ago, she had been smiling. Roses were in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled.

Now, the smile had vanished. She was somber and bore the bitterness of a much older person who was no stranger to pain and disappointment. The healthy color was gone, leaving behind unnatural paleness and dark circles under her eyes. The once shining eyes were dull and careless. There was no life present in her eyes.

The young woman had been secure and loved once. But, when _he _left, he took everything. She dreamed of him almost every night. She would dream that he was with her again, holding her, but when she opened her eyes, he wasn't there. Empty air was her only bedfellow.

Once upon a time, she dreamed that love was pure and undying. She, in her naïve state, had believed all of mankind to be honest and good. However, once the protection of his arms left, she was vulnerable to the world, and the world devoured her. Innocence was stolen from her, all love abandoned her, and she wanted to die.

Still, one thing kept her alive: Cosette.

Even her dead heart warmed when she thought of her little girl. Oh, how she missed her! She would have given anything to hold her again, to sing her lullabies and read her stories.

Cosette was everything to her, and now, she was in danger. The Thenardiers, the innkeepers with whom Cosette lived, wrote her for more money because her little girl was very sick. The factory where she had worked had fired her once the mayor learned that she was an unmarried mother, and if she didn't do something quickly, her precious daughter would die.

So, she abandoned the world that had abandoned her and sold her last earthly possession: her body.

She could still feel the bruises left by rough, uncaring hands on her stomach and thighs. Yet, she had endured it without crying out once. The drunken sailor had made love to one already dead.

Fantine looked into the mirror again, and suddenly, she grabbed it and threw it to the ground. As it shattered, she saw it as a reflection of the dream she had once dreamed.

o0o

Fantine was out on the streets despite the fact that it was a particularly cold night. She was blowing into her hands, trying to warm them, when three very boisterous men exited a tavern. Though normally she would find some excuse to escape the attention of the prowling customers that only came at night, she now reached out a hand and touched the elbow of one of them.

"May I keep you company, sir?" she asked, attempting to be flirtatious.

The man's eyes looked her up and down, and a predatory smile came to his face. "How much?"

"A franc?" she suggested hopefully.

He and his companions burst into scornful laughter, and she blushed. "Fifty sous?" she pleaded, now allowing her desperation to show.

"Fifty sous?" the man cried with mirth. "To bed a corpse? Here's your fifty sous!" He lunged forward and stuffed snow down her dress, much to the delight of his cohort. When Fantine screamed, he crammed another handful of snow into her mouth, making her gag. She fell to the ground as she tried to rid her mouth of the cold material. Never in her life had she felt so humiliated… not when she lost her job, nor when she sold her hair. But, this… this reminded her exactly what she had become, and it was more than she could bear. She sprang at the man and started beating him with her fists. He and his friends quickly overpowered her and threw her back onto the ground. When she thought all was lost, an officer appeared.

"They started it," she began to explain, but he didn't let her finish. He drew his hand back and slapped her across the face. She gasped in horror as she looked at him piteously. However, Inspector Javert was not one who could be moved by the misfortunes of a prostitute, as she discovered. He sentenced her to six months in jail. As the other policemen dragged her, kicking and screaming, towards a cell, a voice suddenly cried, "Stop!"

Everyone froze. There, looking indignant, was the mayor.

Fantine laughed like a madwoman. "So, you're the one who sent me here! Well, I want to thank you for your consideration, monsieur." She spit at him. He didn't look angry or attack her in any way; instead, he just looked very sad. Then, he turned to Javert.

"Release her," he demanded.

Javert looked dumbfounded. "Sir?"

"I said release her!" the mayor snapped. "She's sick and needs medical attention."

"Sir, I advise you to reconsider. She attacked a man. She defiled you in front of myself and my men…"

"And, I have forgiven her, Inspector."

Javert's face turned red. "I will not stand by and watch you release a common criminal!"

"Then, you are relieved for your duties for the night!" The usually quiet and shy mayor had reached the end of his bountiful patience. He glared at Javert, refusing to back down, and the inspector left without another word.

Silence followed for several moments. Fantine realized that the guards were still holding onto her arms, and she shook them off her.

"He says I can go," she said defiantly. "So, I'll go now, and I won't be any trouble to anybody." Head held high, she walked towards the door… only to collapse after only a few steps. As the world turned black around her, she thought, _Cosette, my baby… what will happen to you now?_

o0o

Fortunately, the mayor arranged for her to stay in his house and to be attended to by a nurse daily. Yet, Fantine grew weaker as the days passed. One day, the mayor approached her bedside with a grave look on his face. She knew without asking that her time was limited.

"Please, monsieur…" she began.

"Hush, now, Fantine," he said. "You need your rest."

She shook her head. Rest couldn't help her now. "My daughter… she's going to be all alone… I'm all she has."

This wasn't the first time she had spoken of her daughter. Jean Valjean, the mayor, glanced at the nurse, who shook her head sadly. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. Then, without really considering what he was saying, he said, "Fantine, don't worry. I will go and fetch your daughter from the Thenardiers. I will pay any debt that you owe them, only sign a release that says Cosette is to come with me."

After the release was written, Jean had to help Fantine sign her name, for - being a poor girl - she couldn't read nor write. She coughed and asked frantically, "But, monsieur, where will you take her?"

"I will keep her with me and raise her as my own," he promised, his eyes shining strangely. "None will harm Cosette as long as I am living."

Fantine felt a strange moisture in her eyes. As Jean reached forward and wiped off her cheek gently, she realized that she was crying. She hadn't cried in so long… her heart had been hardened by the world's cruelty. But, here in her final hour, she found that she could cry by the comfort of a man whom she'd wronged.

"Monsieur, you come from God in heaven. I… I have gravely misjudged you. Please, forgive me," she whispered.

"There is nothing to forgive, my dear girl," he replied quietly.

She felt her eyelids grow heavy. "Stay until I am sleeping," she begged.

"I won't leave you now. Rest in peace," he murmured. Then, he tenderly touched his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes.

Once, she had dreamed a dream that love would never die. When the world had abused her, she believed that the dream was a lie. But, now she knew that her dream would live on forever. She had no regrets now, for her daughter would live and prosper. Cosette _was _her dream, for Cosette was the product of her love. And, through the kind and compassionate mayor, her dream would live as well. Cosette would be safe, and Cosette would live.

Thus, with a smile on her face, Fantine slept.

_The dream would live on…_

_End._


End file.
